Chapter 298 – The Ambush (Part I)
"Is the list ready?"
In the Hokage's office, Minato Namikaze looked up from a stack of reports, his calm expression barely concealing the tension beneath.
Across the desk stood Shikaku Nara, who had just entered with his usual unhurried stride.
Minato trusted Shikaku more than anyone when it came to politics and logistics.
As the head of Konoha's Administrative Division, Shikaku's mind had long been the village's most reliable compass—sharp in analysis, broad in vision, and ruthlessly practical when needed.
That was precisely why Minato wasn't surprised when Shikaku had caught on to the implications buried in Kei Uchiha's last letter.
Surprised, perhaps, that he'd noticed so much with so little to go on—but unsurprised that it was Shikaku who had done it.
He'd asked just one question after reading the encrypted summary:
Would this operation implicate Konoha?
The answer, of course, was no—
and Minato would never allow it to.
Once that was clear, Shikaku knew exactly what needed to be done, and he had already made multiple preparations to account for every possible outcome.
---
"It's all ready, Lord Hokage."
Shikaku placed a folder on the desk.
"These are the surplus weapons from our post-war stockpile—mostly for battlefield use. They're old, but the quality's still top-grade."
Minato nodded slightly. "Good. And when they're withdrawn from inventory…?"
Shikaku gave a small, knowing smile. "I'll coordinate with my father to handle the paperwork.
But you'll need to sync with the Police Department, Hokage-sama.
If we mask the movement as mission requisitions and reclassify the gear as ANBU logistics, the Finance Division won't detect a thing."
Minato's fingers tapped once against the desk.
The Hokage, the head of the Police Force, and the Administrative Director… secretly running weapons out of the village.
No one would ever believe it—
and no one could ever find out.
Still, it was the right move.
War had ended, but the scars it left demanded resources—
money to rebuild, to stabilize, to strengthen Konoha's standing while its rivals struggled to recover.
And if, in the process, they could discreetly sell off obsolete weapons to profit from the chaos abroad…
well, that was simply good policy.
"Understood," Minato said finally, returning the folder.
"I'll leave it in your hands, Shikaku. I don't need to remind you how sensitive this is. Handle it cleanly."
"Yes, Hokage-sama."
Shikaku bowed deeply, his expression calm, though a flicker of satisfaction glimmered in his eyes.
Not because of the trust Minato had placed in him—he'd always been confident in his abilities.
What pleased him was seeing Minato grow—
to think like a true Hokage, no longer the impulsive prodigy who raced into danger, but a leader who could view the village as a living, breathing whole.
He's finally seeing the big picture, Shikaku thought. That's good. That's what Konoha needs.
---
"Any word from Kei lately?" Minato asked suddenly, breaking Shikaku's reverie.
"It's been… what, half a month since his last report?"
"Yes." Shikaku nodded. "No updates since then."
"And the ANBU embedded in the Mist?"
"Nothing from them either," Shikaku admitted. "They've gone completely silent. Unless we initiate contact—or something extreme happens—we won't hear from them at all."
Minato sighed. He understood.
That kind of silence could only mean one thing: chaos.
The situation inside Kirigakure had deteriorated faster than anyone expected.
It had only been a few months, and yet the Mist was already teetering on the edge of self-destruction.
Worry pricked at Minato's heart.
Kei was strong—he'd proven that many times over.
And he carried Minato's own kunai, the key to an instant escape.
But the Mist… was also the base of that mysterious organization.
Even with Obito covering for him, the risks were immense.
Should I intervene? Minato wondered.
He hated waiting blind. No updates, no intelligence—nothing but faith in a friend operating deep in enemy territory.
He clenched his fist. I can't lose him. Not after everything he's done for us.
Just then, a faint pulse of chakra brushed against his senses.
It was weak—distant—but unmistakable.
Minato's eyes widened slightly, then softened.
He'd been summoned.
Kei was calling him.
---
"Are you ready?"
In the dense, fog-shrouded forests of the Land of Water, Kei stood on a ridge overlooking the ghostly glow of Kirigakure in the distance.
The mist rolled thick around him, swallowing all sound.
Behind him stood Ayaka Hyūga and Kenta Imai, both tense and alert.
They'd already sent their coded messages, the bait was set, and the targets were in motion.
Now, the curtain was finally rising.
Their first move: attack the Kaguya Clan.
Kei didn't care how prepared Kaguya Shigemitsu was.
Prepared or not, the raid would happen.
The deal between them had served its purpose—Shigemitsu thought he could buy weapons without cost,
but Kei had never intended to let the transaction end cleanly.
The Kaguya leader was just a pawn. The real mission lay elsewhere:
to extract Kimimaro, and to shield Obito's operations in the chaos that would follow.
At the same time, this assault would drive a deeper wedge between the Kaguya and the Mist, accelerating their inevitable downfall.
---
He brushed his fingers against the hilt of a kunai—
Minato's kunai.
He kept it close at hand.
If things turned against him, one flick of chakra and the Fourth Hokage would be there in an instant.
Because once this battle started, the lines would blur.
The Mist's elite would come.
And in the fog of war, no one would care who struck first—or who fell.
---
"We're ready," Ayaka and Kenta said in unison, their voices steady.
"Good." Kei nodded once.
"Remember the plan. We strike the Kaguya, extract the target, then retreat.
We'll be intercepted by Mist ANBU on the way out.
You two handle the flanks—I'll take the main force head-on. Understood?"
"Understood," they replied.
Ayaka hesitated, then asked quietly, "Captain, if we're separated during the fight—where's our fallback point? Where do we regroup?"
Kei shook his head. "Don't expect an easy regroup. Be cautious.
If the Kaguya turn on us to save themselves—or hand one of you over as leverage to bargain with me—don't hesitate to fight back.
If I were in their place, I'd do the same."
It was a brutal truth, but both of them knew he was right.
Still, their expressions remained calm.
They'd steeled themselves for this the moment they accepted the mission.
---
"As for finding me," Kei added with a faint grin, "just look for the biggest presence on the battlefield."
Kenta blinked. "Biggest presence? What, did you summon something—like a giant snake or toad?"
Kei gave him a dry look.
Admittedly, it wasn't a stupid guess.
In Konoha, "massive presences" usually meant the Three Legendary Sannin's summons.
And since Kei had ties to both Minato and Orochimaru, it wasn't unthinkable that he might've learned something from them.
Kei only chuckled. "Let's call it a surprise. You'll see soon enough."
He reached for his mask, fitting it smoothly over his face.
"Move out."
---
"Captain, one last question," Ayaka said, her tone colder now.
"When we fight—whether it's the Kaguya or the Mist—do we hold back at all?"
Kei's crimson eyes flared beneath the mask.
"No. They're all Mist shinobi. That makes them our enemies."
---
At that same moment, within the Mist Village,
in a dim, nondescript building beside the Mizukage Tower,
an old man sat quietly, reading by candlelight.
His back was slightly hunched, his head bald and spotted with age,
but his presence carried the weight of authority that could rival the Mizukage herself.
Genji—
the Elder of the Hidden Mist.
He had ruled from the shadows for decades, his influence stretching back to the era of the Second and Third Mizukage.
Even now, with the Fourth Mizukage on the throne, his power had only grown stronger—
his voice carried as much weight as the Mizukage's own.
But Genji was no fool.
He knew the difference between a leader and a shadow.
He stayed quiet, played the advisor, and survived every political storm the Mist had weathered.
Still, he was old enough to know that power without strength was fleeting.
To protect himself, his family, and those who served him, he needed to remain vigilant.
As he squinted down at the open book in his hands, his mind drifted elsewhere.
---
A few days earlier, one of his informants embedded in the ANBU had sent a troubling report:
the Mizukage's personal ANBU were frantically searching for someone.
At first, Genji hadn't paid much attention.
The Fourth Mizukage had a habit of hunting shadows—both real and imagined.
But the more he heard, the stranger it sounded.
Who could be important enough for the Mizukage to deploy ANBU in secret?
He frowned.
The Fourth's policies had always struck him as excessive—sealing borders, isolating the country, enforcing brutal "purification" programs within the ranks.
It was the same madness their former Mizukage had begun, only intensified.
He'd opposed it once, long ago, but he was no Kage.
Opposition only made one a target.
---
"Elder Genji," a voice interrupted his thoughts.
He glanced up. A man knelt before him—one-eyed, with blue hair and the Hidden Mist insignia on his forehead protector.
"Ah, Ao," Genji said with a faint smile. "What brings you here?"
"News from the Owl Division, Elder," Ao replied gravely. "The Mizukage's ANBU have mobilized."
"Oh?" Genji closed his eyes slightly, listening. "Tell me everything."
"Yes, sir."
Ao relayed the report.
Strange "ghosts" had been sighted in the village—figures moving unseen, leaving no trace.
Patrols and sentries had found nothing, yet the ANBU were certain these phantoms were real.
The Mist had always been haunted by paranoia—but this was something else.
Recently, several missing persons cases—both civilians and shinobi—had drawn a disturbing connection.
All those who vanished were spies from foreign nations.
And now, abandoned houses once belonging to these spies showed signs of recent activity.
The conclusion was chilling:
these "ghosts" had been hiding under their very noses.
And worse—
They'd stopped hiding.
The latest investigation confirmed it.
The intruders were moving openly now, leaving their traces behind as if to invite pursuit.
The ANBU didn't understand why.
But they all knew one thing—
Something terrible was about to happen.
---
Genji's smile faded.
"So… ghosts in the Mist," he murmured.
"Then let's see who dares to haunt my village."
Elder Genji sat in silence after Ao's report, his thin fingers tapping lightly against the wooden table.
The rhythmic sound betrayed his unease.
"So," he murmured, his voice as dry as paper, "someone must have sensed the disturbance within the village… and decided to take advantage of the chaos. Perhaps even…"
He stopped mid-sentence.
Even he dared not finish that thought.
Because if the Fourth Mizukage truly intended to push the brutal reforms left behind by his predecessor to their extreme conclusion—
then the Mist Village would not just fall into chaos.
It would tear itself apart.
Genji's cloudy eyes flickered with a cold light.
Whatever these so-called "ghosts" were, he needed them gone.
Completely.
If left alive, they could shatter the fragile order holding Kirigakure together.
Already, they'd exploited the village's internal divisions to sow confusion, mistrust, and fear.
And their deaths—public, decisive—would send a message to every clan secretly watching from the shadows:
Don't even think about moving.
He didn't need to punish anyone outright.
Not when fear would do it for him.
"Those damned policies…" Genji muttered under his breath.
He'd opposed them once, long ago—before the Third Mizukage's death, before the Fourth was installed like a puppet on a throne.
But some things couldn't be changed, not even by a man who wielded power equal to the Mizukage himself.
Because that power… existed only as long as he didn't test its limits.
---
"Elder!"
The sharp voice cut through his thoughts.
A masked ANBU knelt at the entrance. Genji recognized her immediately.
"…Mei," he sighed, rubbing his temples. "You may rise. What is it this time? Today's already been tiresome enough."
"Yes, Elder."
The kunoichi removed her mask slightly—Mei Terumī, once nearly killed by Kei Uchiha himself.
Her tone was clipped and cold.
"A message from the Mizukage, sir."
Genji's brow furrowed. "What message?"
Mei hesitated for half a second, then said evenly,
"He said: 'Since the Elder is so capable… I'll leave those intruders to you.'"
For a brief moment, the old man's wrinkled face went utterly still.
Then, slowly, he exhaled through his nose.
A dry chuckle escaped him.
"Clever," he muttered. "A very clever move indeed."
---
Far across the village, in the Mizukage's office—
a pale, blank-eyed man sat motionless in his chair, like a lifeless doll.
Beside him, two shadows stood by the window, overlooking the village below.
Uchiha Obito and Black Zetsu.
The true rulers of Kirigakure.
---
"Smart little trick," Obito said flatly, watching the distant elder's compound come alive with movement.
"The old man and his faction were never friendly with us anyway.
Let him clash with Kei. A dogfight between old power and new chaos."
His masked face tilted slightly.
"Who knows? Maybe Kei will do us a favor before he dies."
Black Zetsu glanced sideways at him, a faint grin twisting across his ink-black features.
He's learning, the ancient creature thought. Finally.
Though in truth, he suspected Obito's "cleverness" was just luck and timing aligning for once.
Still—
letting Genji's forces and Kei's squad tear each other apart was undeniably convenient.
Less risk. More blood. No exposure.
Exactly the kind of outcome Black Zetsu preferred.
---
Of course, he harbored no illusions about the Mist's strength.
Those soldiers wouldn't be enough to kill Kei.
No, they'd only wear him down—just enough for Obito and himself to finish the job afterward.
As for Kei's escape plans?
Black Zetsu couldn't imagine he had any that would work.
What would he rely on—the Flying Thunder God?
Zetsu actually chuckled to himself at the absurdity.
Even Tobirama Senju's masterpiece had its limits.
No one could bridge an ocean with a single seal—not even the Yellow Flash.
Unless Kei somehow carried the power of a Jinchūriki, there was no way he could summon help from the other side of the sea.
"Impossible," he muttered, shaking his head. "You're not the Nine-Tails host, boy."
---
"Shall we?"
Obito's voice broke his thoughts.
"Go watch the show?"
Black Zetsu's grin returned.
"Why not? A front-row seat to chaos sounds delightful."
With that, his body melted into the ground, flowing like ink through the earth.
Moments later, he emerged on the outskirts of the Kaguya compound, where faint torchlight flickered through the mist.
From this distance, he could see Kei's team preparing for battle—though not clearly enough to make out their faces.
Even so, he dared not get closer; the two shinobi beside Kei radiated chakra that made even him cautious.
Then his gaze fell upon their attire—
and his expression darkened instantly.
"What…?" His tone turned venomous.
Then his voice dropped to a furious whisper.
"You bastards."
His eyes narrowed with hatred.
Kei's team wasn't wearing the gear of Konoha's covert operatives—
The three of them were wearing identical masks—the same spiral-patterned design once worn by the mysterious attacker who had assaulted Konoha.